


Lipstick

by DorthyAnn (JenniferMarie)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fucking with gender roles, Lipstick, M/M, Makeup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 09:39:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10851330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenniferMarie/pseuds/DorthyAnn
Summary: Draco finds a tube of Pansy's lipstick. He puts it on in a fit of curiosity and finds that he really, really likes how he looks. He's not the only one.





	1. Chapter 1

Draco found the tube under his bed. He knew it was the lipstick Pansy had lost and had been bitching about for days to anyone within earshot. He also knew that she had owl ordered a new one, but that wasn’t why he didn’t give it back.

He waited until everyone was in the great hall for dinner, spell locking the bathroom door behind him before he even dared to take the lipstick from his pocket. Draco opened it carefully, setting the outer tube on the ceramic counter with a soft click that seemed to echo around the room. He twisted the tube and the deep red lipstick rose, feeling accusatory just by being exposed to the air, in his hands, alone in this room.

A single faint tremor went through his hand. If his friends, if his  _family_  ever found out- Draco couldn’t bear the thought. But it was just curiosity, nothing more. Once he had done it, he would just leave the lipstick in the common room somewhere and be done with it. It was just once.

Draco bit his bottom lip thoughtfully and then lean forward. He hastily dried his lip with his thumb and then carefully traced his bottom lip, leaving pale red in its wake. He blinked, his heart rate picking up as he carefully went over his lip until the colour was as deep and rich as the lipstick itself. He took just as much care with the top lip and used tissue to clean up the edges until it was perfect.

He pressed his lips together and let them go. It was like looking at someone else. He had never paid much attention to his lips before except in passing.  They had a nice shape and the lipstick made them seem fuller and bigger. Draco leaned back from the mirror, shivering when he took in all of himself. The red was so stark against his pale skin, stark and  _bold_. His cheeks were flushing with excitement and nerves.

He liked it. He liked everything about it.

The distant sound of the common room entrance opening made him jump. Draco quickly wiped the lipstick off and vanished the tissues so no evidence was left behind. He made a hasty retreat back to his bed where he pulled the curtains and in the shady half -light, opened his hand to look at the tube of lipstick in his palm. He knew he wasn’t going to get rid of it. It was stupid and reckless. And he  _knew_  he would put it on again.

Draco carried the lipstick with him everywhere. He told himself it was safer that way. If anyone found it in his room it would be harder to explain. If they found it in his bag he could say he found it and was going to return it or was planning to draw on Nott’s face when he was asleep. The truth was he liked having it close, he liked having this secret that he could see and touch whenever he wanted without anyone knowing.

He liked being able to slip away to empty bathrooms and classrooms and put the lipstick on and imagine what it would be like to wear it out  _there_. How would people look when they saw? He liked to think they would be shocked by his boldness and admire how good he looked. He liked to imagine himself brave, but he never was. Because he knew there would be no admiration, only stares, whispers, muffled giggles, and insults. He would quickly wipe the lipstick off when he thought of that, his face burning with embarrassment at himself. If he wasn’t Slytherin, if he wasn’t pureblood with all their cultural baggage, if he wasn’t  _Malfoy_ , would it be ok then? Would this new part of himself ever be ok?

He was in the quidditch locker room, hair still damp from the showers. He had been flying practice drills on the empty pitch, ending with a few snitch catching runs that had gone long. He finished buttoning his shirt, picked up his robe and hesitated. Draco glanced around and once he was sure the room was empty as it had been when he came in, he pulled the lipstick from his robe pocket and went to the mirror.

He could apply it easily now, in easy confident strokes. He plumped his lips absently, messing with his hair so it fell loose on one side and into his eyes. He smirked at himself then let it relax into a smile that turned melancholic as he watched.

Draco’s head jerked up as he caught a flash of movement in the corner of his eye. In the corner of the mirror, he saw Potter reflected back at him, green eyes wide with shock. Draco's hand flew up to cover his mouth, fumbling to pick up the lipstick as he turned away. Draco's face felt hot, his heart pounding in his ears as he shoved past Potter, grabbing his cloak and hurrying to the door.

“Wait!” Potter’s hand caught the back of his shirt and a second later was close enough to curl around his arm and pull him back.

Draco kept his face turned away, unwilling to see the expression on Potter’s face, the mocking, the glee. “Well?” he sneered, trying to jerk his arm away though Potter held on tight.

“Oh, um,” Potter mumbled faintly, “It’s just-”

Draco took a deep breath to steady his voice, “If you’re going to take the piss, get on with it, Potter. I haven’t got all day.”

“Take the-?” Potter said, surprised, his grip loosening and letting go, “No! I- No… I wouldn’t make fun of you. I-You look….”

Draco shivered and let himself turn. Potter was flushed and only grew redder as Draco faced him, his gaze seemingly locked on Draco’s lips.

“Yes?” Draco prompted, curiosity getting the better of him.

Potter's throat bobbed as he swallowed.

Draco pressed his lips together, rolling them out into a faint pout and letting them fall open slightly. He watched Potter’s eyes widen and grow dark. A different sort of flush began to fill Draco’s body. “Do you like my lipstick?” he asked carefully.

“I- just…” Potter took a step back, suddenly it seemed as if their roles had reversed and Potter was the one on the verge of running away.

Draco followed him, stepping after him, leaning forward, “…Do you like  _me_ in lipstick?” he asked quietly in the narrow gap between them.

Potter’s gaze flicked from Draco’s lips to his eyes and back down to his mouth. He opened his mouth and he closed it again in silence.

Draco heart was pounding with as much fear as excitement. He leaned forward slowly, wondering with each heartbeat if this was the moment Potter turned and ran. But he didn’t. And Draco carefully and firmly pressed his lips to Potter’s cheek, feeling the first hint of stubble there and a rich woody smelling aftershave.

There was a perfect kiss of red lipstick left on Potter’s cheek as Draco pulled back. That was when Potter bolted. The locker room door slamming shut behind him and leaving Draco alone with a turbulent mess of emotions in his chest and the certain pounding wish that he had kissed Potter’s lips instead.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

As soon as he was inside the main doors Harry pressed his back against the cold stone walls. He was breathing hard like he had been running, he had been running. 

The image of Malfoy flooded back through his mind, a bright splash of red on skin so pale any hint of colour stood out in stark relief. The slight hint of gold-blond in Malfoy's hair, the flush of pink on his cheeks and ears- and his eyes... Harry tried to remember what they had looked like before, had they always been a soft delicate grey with hidden flecks of blue? Had they always been framed by long pale lashes? Had Malfoy always been-?

Harry clutched his hand over his chest, his heart still thundering in his chest so hard he felt dizzy.

“Hey, thought you were going flying?” Ron's voice broke through his whirling thoughts.

Harry blinked. He was in the Gryffindor common room, he didn't remember walking here.  He shook his head vaguely, “No, I-” his voice faded off.

“Ended up doing somethin' a bit more interesting than flying I'd wager!” Seamus crowed, elbowing Dean in the side and leaning against him to whisper in his ear.

Dean's face split into a grin, “Secret rendezvous, Harry?”

“What?” Harry's brow furrowed.

Seamus laughed and pointed to his own cheek, “She left a big old smacker on you mate!”

Harry hand drifted up and hovered over his cheek as the memory flattened him- Malfoy leaning in, his eyelashes fluttering, a breath on Harry's cheek followed by the press of his lips which were soft and warm against his cheek. He sucked in a startled breath and hurried through the common room, not even hearing the teasing calls after him, and to the loo. He went straight to the mirror, his head turning automatically to show the red lip print in full relief.

It was smeared on the bottom where he must have touched it without realizing. Harry touched the lipstick with the tips of two fingers and pulled away, a faint rouge colouring his skin. He rubbed his thumb over the red until it was nothing more than a faint pink tint. A shiver started at the base of his neck and ended up trapped in his stomach.

Every crush Harry had ever had, had been a slow thing. It started just by noticing a person, admiring them for one thing and then, slowly noticing more and more things until he realized he fancied them. Once he realized that, then he might think about holding hands, kissing, each its own gradual step in his desire.

But Malfoy. Malfoy was sudden, shocking and all at once, like being hit by a tidal wave. Just as he had always been, really. Harry could hardly tear his mind away from Malfoy now. And he really wanted to kiss Malfoy. He wanted him to leave his mark on Harry's lips, his cheeks, his neck...

The doorknob rattled and Harry’s hand flew to his pocket, pulling his wand out and casting a hasty glamour to hide the kiss mark. He put his wand away, ducking his head to hide the flush of embarrassment on his cheeks, turning the tap on and sticking hands under the water for something to do. As soon as the two fourth years were past him he shook his hands off and left. His feet carried him back to the common room where he dropped into a chair next to Ron, who was beating Neville at chess even with the handicap of playing without a queen.

Ron moved his knight to soundly crush Neville's rook and then leaned back to let Neville agonize. “I thought you didn't fancy anyone?” Ron said a little too casually.

“No.” Harry said, squeezing his hands together to stop himself from touching his cheek again, “...I was- It just happened.”

“Some fangirl,” Ron nodded, glancing back at the board as Neville's hand first hovered over his castle and then one of his pawns, “Could put anyone off their lunch the way they think they can just paw at you.”

“I didn't think there was anything that could put you off your lunch,” Neville said, finally settling on his moving his pawn.

“You're right there,” Ron said and immediately moved to corner Neville's other rook with a satisfied grin.

Neville groaned under his breath and hunched over the board.

Harry wasn't listening. He couldn't even focus. He kept finding himself touching his cheek, rubbing lipstick between his fingers and feeling faintly shocked each time. Part of himself couldn't believe it was real, that it had actually happened, but the lipstick was still there.

That night, Harry waited until the bathroom was completely empty before getting ready for bed. Removing the glamour showed Malfoy's kiss to be completely smeared and faded by his constant touching. He chewed his bottom lip, staring at it none-the-less. It took him ages for Harry to convince himself to wash his face, shaving almost mechanically and glaring at his clean cheek.

Sleep came slowly, his fingers tracing the lingering memory of Malfoy's lips on his skin. Once he did finally sleep, his dreams were haunted by red-lipped reflections and kisses trapped in slow motion.

When Harry saw Malfoy the next morning in the dining room, he seemed like a different person. It wasn't just the lack of colour that seemed to wash him out like a marble statue, he seemed more reserved, every inch of himself pulled tight to his chest.

Days passed. Malfoy carefully ignoring the absolute nothing Harry did. Every nerve in Harry's body burned with the pressing desire to do  _something_  because he couldn't focus in class without thinking about Malfoy, couldn't sleep without him invading his mind like a plague. Yet, he seemed stuck with nerves and doubt, that the kiss hadn't meant anything, that Malfoy had been teasing, mocking, pushing Harry to see what he would do. Eventually, Harry acted because if he didn't he felt like he might lose his mind.

Harry followed him out after dinner, alone. Malfoy was flanked on either side by Parkinson and Zabini.

“Malfoy!” He called, stopping with the trio stopped, feeling his bravery waver as they all turned to look at him coldly.

“What do you want, Potter?” Parkinson asked, lifting her nose imperiously.

“I-” Harry hesitated, watching Malfoy nervously.

Malfoy was still, his gaze fixed on Harry as he waited for him to make the first move.

Harry swallowed hard, squeezing a nervous hand into a tight fist.“Yes,” he said quietly.

“Yes what, Potter?” Parkinson said coolly, twirling her wand in her fingers with a deliberate sort of nonchalance.

Harry's eyes never left Malfoy's, “To the questions you asked in the locker room. Yes. To both.”

Malfoy's throat bobbing was the only sign Harry's answer had affected him. Malfoy glanced at his friends and told them quietly, “Go ahead. Potter and I have something to talk about.”

“Is he holding something over you?” Zabini said with a note of warning in his voice.

Malfoy shook his head, “It's fine.”

Something in Malfoy's expression or tone was enough to convince them and they reluctantly continued down the hallway headed towards the dungeons. They both watched the pair in silence until they had disappeared around the corner before looking at each other. Harry felt his heart rate pick up at Malfoy's considering expression.

Malfoy headed down the hall in the opposite direction and Harry followed. They went into an empty classroom, Malfoy locked the door behind them and lit the sconces with an absentminded flick of his wand before tucking it back in his pocket. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Harry in resolute silence.

Harry's pulse fluttered with a surge of panic but he couldn't let himself back down now. “...Do you have it?” He bit his bottom lip, “The lipstick, I mean.”

Malfoy hesitated before giving the slightest nod.

“Would you... put it on?” the question came out small, devoured by the open empty space around them.

Malfoy's eyebrows twitched up, his head tilting off to the side slightly with an expression Harry couldn't read.

Harry felt his face heating up in the silence that stretched out between them. The air choked in his lungs.

“Would you like that?” Malfoy asked quietly.

“Yes,” Harry breathed out in relief.

Malfoy reached into his robes and pulled out a small black metal tube with two small gold rings at the bottom. From the same pocket, he retrieved a diamond shaped mirror compact. Malfoy took the top off the lipstick and pressed it into Harry’s hands, “Hold this,” he said as casually as if he were talking about the weather.

Harry's fingers curled around the thin metal, still warm from Malfoy's body.

Malfoy twisted the lipstick slowly. His gaze moved from the lipstick to Harry, then he raised the mirror up and focused on his reflection. He pressed the lipstick against his bottom lip leaving a bloom of colour in its wake, pink to red, his lip pulling with each careful stroke.

“Slower...” Harry took a step closer, mesmerized.

Malfoy paused, the corner of his mouth twitching up, but his hand moved slower. He turned so Harry's view wasn't blocked by the mirror, tracing the bow of his upper lip with careful little strokes. He kept pausing, his mouth pressing together until he had to stop and smile. He looked at Harry, his eyes crinkling as he briefly closed his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief. 

Malfoy took a deep breath, pursing his mouth, gathering himself, and looking back into the mirror. He finished quickly, colouring his inner lips, pressing them together, and then pouting them, turning his head this way and that until he was satisfied, closing the compact with a snap. He took the cap from Harry, pushing it onto the lipstick until it clicked faintly, and slipped both items into his robes. 

Malfoy looked back at Harry and dared a faint hopeful smile, “Well, Potter?”

“You look...” Harry studied Malfoy's expressions hungrily. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen Malfoy smile like this. He seemed hopeful and happy, brighter, like a flower turning to the sun. “You look...”

“Are going to finish that sentence? Or do you need another run at it?” Malfoy said without any bite.

Harry sucked in a shaky breath, “Wonderful.”

Malfoy shivered with pleasure at Harry's answer, smiling broadly with a flash of perfect white teeth. “Now what, Potter?” Malfoy asked in a teasing tone, raising one eyebrow, “Another kiss?”

Harry swallowed, feeling a flush of heat rush over him with a shiver. He licked his lips, glancing at Malfoy's mouth and then away in embarrassment.

Malfoy was quiet, the expression on his face almost frightening in its intensity. He reached out, pressing his fingertips against Harry's chest. Malfoy stepped closer and Harry let himself be pushed back, one small step at a time until his back was pressed against the door. Malfoy's palm slid up Harry's chest as he moved close enough that their breaths mingled.

Harry tilted his head up. Malfoy was only an inch or two taller, Harry had never really paid it much mind until now. 

“Another kiss?” Malfoy asked again.

Harry own voice came out rough, “Yeah.”

“Oh,” Malfoy said almost absently, his fingers traced the edge of Harry's collar. He took the pointed end between his thumb and forefinger, pulling it taunt and leaned down, his hair brushing against Harry's chin as he pressed a kiss to the white fabric, “Here?” he said, looking at Harry teasingly as he pulled back. “Or maybe here?” he took Harry's chin and gently turned it, kissing his cheek.

“Malfoy,” Harry said, his voice so hungry and low he didn't recognize it. His hands had found their way to Malfoy's waist, tracing the division of fabric between his shirt and trousers.

“No?” Malfoy said, lifting one eyebrow. He kissed the edge of Harry's jaw, “How about here then?”

“ _Malfoy_ ,” Harry traced the muscles of Malfoy's back, into the valley of his spine pulling him close.

“Maybe just here,” Malfoy kissed the corner of his mouth.

Harry groaned, not sure how much more teasing he could take, “ _Draco._ ”

Draco kissed his lips with a growl, curling a hand around Harry's neck and up into his hair.

Harry gasped into the kiss, pulling Draco tight against his hips and feeling Draco grind back into him, eliciting another groan. Draco's mouth was soft, sweet and insistent. He chased Harry's kiss when he pulled back, pulled Harry with him as he turned his head. Draco pulled and tangled his hand in Harry's hair.

Draco pulled away first, breathless and flushed, his lipstick smeared. “It's getting late. Pansy will worry.” He looked down at himself, straightening his robes, “I'd rather she didn't come looking for me.”

Harry watched as Draco took a packet of tissue from his pocket and the compact, tsking faintly at his own reflection as he wiped it free of rouge.

“We could meet again?” Harry asked hopefully, “If you want?”

Draco smiled faintly, “I would like that.” He looked at Harry over top his mirror, closing it slowly. He held out the tissue.

“Er, no,” Harry said flushing, “...I  rather like it.”

Malfoy's blinked, his cheeks flushing bright red. He cleared his throat, “...Wait at least five minutes before you head back will you?”

Harry nodded.

Draco leaned down and stole one more slow chaste kiss. Harry pulled the stained tissue from Draco's hand and wiped the faint pink stain from his lips

Draco smiled faintly, “I'll see you later,  _Harry_.”

  
  



End file.
